


Aggravation

by nopenoper



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Body Horror, Exhaustion, Horror, Hunters & Hunting, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Monster Hunters, One Shot, Spooky, Survival, some gore but if you watch the show it'll be fine lmao, you're the one being hunted
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-07-14
Updated: 2019-07-14
Packaged: 2020-06-28 08:02:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,073
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19808113
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/nopenoper/pseuds/nopenoper
Summary: Exhaustion morphs into aggravation which morphs into... something else.Something that sounds just like the Winchesters' type of thing.





	Aggravation

Have you ever gotten to that point where everything people say or do just… _aggravates_ you?

It starts off with justifiable things. 

I mean, first of all, it’s one of the long days in your schedule… it’s been thirty-six hours since you’ve gotten some shut eye when you finally go home. 

But then there’s what other people do. 

Someone refusing to help you when it would cause them little to no effort to do so.

Hearing someone gossip about you when they think you can’t hear them.

Someone breathing down your neck about something that, quite frankly, isn’t any of their business.

Someone coughing, or sneezing, or farting or burping or _whatever little thing that bothers you so much_ , right in your direction.

Just... people going out of their way to make your life just that more difficult. 

And the first five or seven or twenty-three times, you let it go. Live and let live, right? 

But then that starts to build up. 

More and more things start to aggravate you. 

That light that flickers a little bit in the apartment? Yeah, it’s a strobe light now. And the light is piercing your brain through your eyes like a knife. 

With every step your eyes are constantly flashing to the roaches as they scurry away from different spots. 

People conversing down the hallway. _God, why can’t they just take it down a notch?_

You finally make the trek to your place. The neighbors are smoking pot again. And a lot of it. You can practically see smoke curling out from around the doorframe. The stench is burning your nostrils and your lungs, you’re almost tempted to grab your inhaler. 

_Can’t they take that shit somewhere else? If it weren’t for the fact that my boss knows the situation, I would’ve been kicked to the curb. They make me smell like a stoner._

You go to grab your keys, and the jangling is like nails on a chalkboard. Everything is starting to hurt now- you need to get inside and get some rest- put an end to today and hope tomorrow is better- 

But then something hard suddenly rams into you. You’re blindsided, and as a result are thrown to the crusty carpet of the floor with weird stains. 

Everything hurts now, it’s all too much. 

You can now hear the buzzing of electricity running through the lamp, somehow smell piss in the carpet even over the weed, you have rug burns, you’re now made aware of the textures of the clothes shifting across your skin, there’s a bitter taste in your mouth, you can hear someone breathing. 

A grating voice. “I’m so sorry, I-” 

A switch flips. All of your senses are attacking you at once. A cornered, rabid animal in the depths of your poor, sorry, exhausted body is awoken. 

And it wants out. 

It happens quickly. The sensations of everything around you is dwarfed by what is changing within you. Your bones grow, snap, and shift, your tendons stretch, your heartbeat is instantly ten times stronger and you can hear blood pulse through your entire body, which is now hulking and deformed.

But it can get the job done. 

It is fast, and strong, and it has wickedly sharp claws. 

It can get rid of all the stimuli that are out to end you. 

… 

Five minutes later and everything that was bothering you is gone. The animal withdraws back within to lick its wounds. And you’re left behind in a destroyed hallway, all sources of _aggravation_ and witnesses gone. You’re dripping in blood. None of it is your own. 

But to be honest, you don't really mind that much. I mean, sure, there’s probably going to be hell to pay for what just happened, but now you can just shower and go to sleep. Peacefully. Without booming music from Chad and his douchebag friends at three A.M or the smell of marijuana permeating the air. 

_Totally worth it._

* * *

Your mindset only changes the next morning when the pounding on your door wakes you up. 

You shoot up in your bed, startled. 

Your head is aching like a bitch, throbbing with each heartbeat you feel behind your eyes. 

_What the fuck?_

_…_

_That was a weird-ass dream._

The pounding of the door again interrupts your self-psychoanalysis on what the everliving fuck could’ve been stewing in your brain to cause that kind of dream. 

“This is the FBI! We have some questions for you.” 

_FBI? They must be looking for the neighbors across the hall,_ you thought as you got out of bed to get the door. 

They were actually among the most courteous neighbors you had, but you were pretty sure they were part of a drug ring. 

_…_ _I really need to move out of this area._

After unbolting the lock, you opened the door, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. Despite the dream, that was the deepest sleep you’ve had in a while. 

When you opened your eyes, there were two attractive men standing at the door in uniforms. You would’ve felt unconscious about your state of dress if you hadn’t woken up literally 30 seconds ago. 

One was tall as hell and long dark hair, while the shorter one lowkey looked like a Ken doll. 

“I’m Agent Tyler, and this is Agent Perry,” one said as they both flashed their badges. 

“We have some questions for you.”

For some reason, as they were talking to you, your eyes drifted over Agent Tyler’s shoulder. 

There was… red. All over the walls. 

Your eyes shot around. 

It was everywhere.

And the ugly-ass wallpaper was ripped to shreds. 

And the lights were all shattered. 

And the smell… 

It was like… an animal had gone on a rampage. 

The realization hit you like a sucker punch. 

_Oh my God._

_That wasn’t a dream, was it?_

Fighting down the sudden nausea and tucking your now violently shaking hands behind you, you put on your best Retail Smile. It was carefully crafted to be courteous, but not suggest any strong emotion. 

You looked back at the agents. Both sets of eyes seemed to be dissecting your every move. 

There was an uncomfortably long pause.

_They can’t know._

“Sorry,” you said, voice surprisingly steady, “I just woke up and I’m very much _not_ a morning person. If you have time, why don’t you come in? I’ll be more coherent once I’ve had some caffeine.” 

_They can’t know._

  


**Author's Note:**

> one Thursday morning I woke up to find the first section of this story open on my laptop on my lap.  
> I don't remember writing it in the slightest.  
> tbh I was too spooked to do anything with it for a couple weeks lmao 
> 
> but I thought it was a pretty cool concept, especially since I wrote it in the middle of exam-studying season, so of course I couldn't resist the urge to turn it into a fic and post it. 
> 
> ...anyways. 
> 
> hope y'all get enough sleep/rest to keep your brains from cooking up this kind of shit.  
> consider this your casual self-care reminder. 
> 
> hope y'all enjoyed!


End file.
